The Prayer of a Dragon
by crystal symphony
Summary: Contains HBP spoilers. The story is set after the 'event' at the end of HBP, written from Draco's perspective. He is struggling to find his way in this new world and everything that seemed concrete to him has vanished, including his no romance rules.
1. The Beginning of the End

**Author's note:** The idea for this fic came straight after I read Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince. It's the best feeling in the world when all of these fanfiction ideas come to you, especially when you are a chronic sufferer of that dreaded sickness: writer's block. This story begins when Draco is escaping Hogwarts after Snape had murdered Dumbledore.

**Disclaimer: **As much as I would like to say that I do, I don't own Harry Potter or anything related, ect, ect.

**Dedications:** I would like to dedicate this story to wonderful cockatiel Monty, who was my shining light. I hope you come back to me soon...

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**Chapter One: The Beginning of the End**

Draco ran as fast as he could, his feet pounding on the ground and his heart thumping in his throat. He stumbled as one of Potter's spells passed dangerously close to him, continuing on to fry a hole in the hedge that marked the edge of Hogwarts. A couple more steps and he would be free – that was all that mattered to him. Solden, an enormous blond Death Eater who was running in front of him had stopped and was aiming his wand. Draco hesitated, but Snape's yell of "Run, Draco!" spurred him into action again. He made a mad dash for the gate, knowing that it was his only hope. As he passed through it he slowed, then fell to the ground, wheezing. He couldn't hear anything from within Hogwarts – all he could see was an old, abandoned castle. Taking a deep breath, he stepped back into the grounds and gasped as a terrifying spectacle met his eyes. Flames had erupted from Hagrid's hut and were leaping into the sky, creating a fearsome backdrop for two prominent figures facing each other with their wands out. Draco tore his eyes away from them and turned as Amycus, Alecto and Solden came racing towards him. They pushed him back through the gate and together they apparated. The last thing that Draco saw was Snape tearing across the grass to the gate, and then everything went black.

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He had failed the Dark Lord.

He had failed the Dark Lord.

He had failed the Dark Lord.

He had failed the Dark Lord.

That same line of thought was hurtling around in Draco's brain like a never-ending steam train, blowing a piercing whistle that sliced through his solitude. Draco was sitting with his back against a wall and his knees drawn up to his chest with his arms wrapped around his legs. His fair blonde head was leaning on his knees and a trickle of fresh blood trailed from his lip. Any tears that dared to even consider falling down his cheek were furiously dashed away. Weakness was despicable – he had to appear strong, especially after his failure.

A few metres away, Solden, Alecto and Amycus were gathering around a flickering fire that was casting dancing shadows upon the walls of the old, abandoned house they were temporarily taking refuge in. Amycus nodded sharply towards Draco's hunched form in a corner untouched by the light of the fire. "What's up with him?" he asked, rubbing his hands together for warmth. His sister Alecto glanced over at Draco.

"Probably just shocked" she shrugged. "Must not have been easy, seeing all of that in such a large scale on your first time."

Amycus leered at her. "What, heartless Alecto showing pity?"

"No" Alecto snapped back. "You were worse on your first time – remember how y..."

"That's enough" grunted Solden, stepping forward. "Now is not the time for fighting – save that for later. Snape should be here soon, and hopefully Greyback. After that we can get out of this dismal place."

A silence descended over the partly ruined house, broken only by the crackling of the fire. Amycus threw another log onto the fire, causing some sparks to fly up into the air just as Snape materialised behind it.

"Glad to see you made it" Alecto said, still scowling at her brother. "Where's Greyback?"

"Meeting us somewhere else" Snape said shortly, moving closer to the fire in an effort to keep warm. "I ran into a spot of trouble with Potter, but he was hysterical and it wasn't hard for me to overcome that."

"Pity you didn't kill him" Amycus grumbled.

Snape shot him a dark look back. "It's not like you would have done any better." He walked over to the wall and grabbed some packs. "Come on, let's go." Snape looked around for Draco, who was still sitting motionless against the wall. "Draco...?" He held the pack out for him to take.

Draco got up and wordlessly took the pack Snape was offering him, his face set in stone.

"Everyone ready?" Snape looked around at the small group, then nodded curtly. With a crack, the small, decaying house was suddenly empty. The flames leapt higher and higher in their absence, flickering in their beautiful yet dangerous dance of power until they consumed the house, destroying any trace of the dark visitors.

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I would really appreciate it if you reviewed my story. It doesn't take long and your comments and feedback is really rewarding for me. Don't feel you have to write something meaningful, just drop a line telling me what you think. Thanks! 


	2. A storm tossed world

**Author's note:** I am so sorry for the long wait – I have had so much to do and to tell you the truth, I had forgotten about this story for a while. I know how bad it is when writers abandon their readers and I feel really guilty when I realise that I have done just that. I have a terrible habit with starting a story, and then having no idea where to go from there. Luckily I _do_ have some idea of where this story is going, although I have a feeling that it will change along the way. The previous chapter was short, I admit, but it was only an introduction. This one isn't as long as I would have liked but it is a start.

**Disclaimer: **Considering that this is a _fanfiction_ site, I am writing a _fanfiction._ This means that I don't own any characters, only this particular storyline.

**Dedications:** I would like to dedicate this fiction to Lochie, my cockatiel, who sat on my shoulder and screeched endlessly whilst I was writing this chapter, as well as demanding strokes and leaving a lovely deposit on page 2.

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**Chapter Two: A Storm-Tossed World**

It wasn't fair – none of it was. Ginny Weasley sighed and slumped back on her bed in the Burrow, the dark howling weather outside perfectly mirroring her mood. A flash of lightning danced across the sky briefly, illuminating the storm-ravaged countryside stretching out for as far as she cared to see. The weather had been steadily getting worse over the past six months, as if nature herself was crying out in defiance at Lord Voldemort's terrorisation of Britain. It was as if the very nature of Wizards and Muggles alike was a storm-tossed boat, gradually drifting away from the ever-fading hopes of humankind, soon to be lost forever in the unforgiving, battering waves.

A copy of the _Daily Prophet_ lay on Ginny's desk, the prominent headline reading: DUMBLEDORE DEAD. A picture underneath this showed Dumbledore's tomb, surrounded by students. Some were crying, others terrified and some just looked shocked. Ginny herself was standing near the front of the crowd, the tears in her eyes glistening. Right underneath was an article about a group of giants finishing their work that they started last summer in Somerset. Three photos were next to it; two showing the ruined cities of Bath and Bristol and the other showing the crater where the primary school of St. Benedict's had once stood. On page 5 there was a list of the many dead in the previous 2 years. It was news like this that had frightened wizards and witches all across the United Kingdom to enter into a state of fear unsurpassed by any previous war, including the last one against Lord Voldemort.

Ginny scowled at the innocent-looking newspaper so full of bad news and promptly set it on fire with her wand. The law against underage magic had been temporarily revoked, meaning that every young spell-caster would not have to attend a hearing to determine if there was a valid, serious and legitimate reason for the offence. In times where people needed to be able to defend themselves frequently and with the Ministry focusing their much-needed attention elsewhere, the law was unnecessary.

The last whole page of the _Daily Prophet_ curled its edges whilst flames licked the sides of it, and Ginny watched as it was consumed. The last thing that she saw was Harry's grief-stricken face at the sight of Dumbledore's tomb before that too was destroyed by the hungry fire.

Finally, a sad-looking pile of ask was left sitting on Ginny's desk and she sat and stared at it for a while. A small tear trickled out of the corner of her eye, slowly winding its way down her face and leaving a shimmering path of sorrow behind it. Dumbledore was dead – she couldn't quite believe it. He had always been there as a symbol of safety, goodness and trust. No-one believed that he would or _could_ go. He was the only person that Voldemort feared. He was the headmaster of Hogwarts. He was the discoverer of the uses of dragon's blood. He was the head of the Order of the Phoenix. He was invincible. He was Dumbledore and now he is gone.

Ginny sniffed angrily, wiping away her tears. It wasn't fair. Life was so short – not even a blink of an eye in the fathomless vortex of time. People existed only for a short time on this earth, but yet their actions during this time would be remembered forever, written down in the insubstantial book of legends. It was a book that Harry was destined for as well.

Harry. It was a rare thing whereby just one word could fill her up inside with so many conflicting emotions and thoughts, all whirling around in her brain and demanding precedence over the rest. Ginny stared down at her bare feet as though they somehow held the answers that she so desperately craved. For a short while, she and Harry had shared a relationship, but then they were torn apart through Voldemort. Ginny clenched her fists. He had ruined so many lives and now he had ruined this. Thanks to her looks, she could have had any guy that she wanted and indeed she had been in many relationships, but the brief one that she had shared with Harry felt different. Not different in a bad way, but in a good way. It was as if in this one she felt complete, her heart bursting with a golden warmth called love. Perhaps it was because she had a silly little girl's crush on him when they were both younger, she didn't know. The only thing that she had to guide her by was her heart and the fact that in previous relationships all she had was a mutual affection – a liking that could never quite evolve into love.

A small book caught the corner of her eye. Pulling it out of her bookshelf, Ginny was amused to see childish sketches of her and Harry together. A small smile mingled with sadness and regret for things past crept over her face as she flicked through the book. She had drawn in it the year before she came to Hogwarts and during her first year. Most of the pictures depicted her and Harry smiling and holding hands. A life that could never be.

"Ginny!" A shrill voice shrieked from downstairs. "I need your help with this icing!" Ginny sighed and rolled off her bed. Despite everything that had just happened, the wedding between Fleur and Bill was still taking place. Ginny's liking for Fleur had increased since Fleur had vehemently proved people who thought that she would not want to marry Bill after his run-in with Greyback wrong.

Ginny took her time on the stairs, not overly eager to help her mother out with more preparations for the wedding, which she was steadily getting tired of. Mrs Weasley hurried out of the kitchen and glanced up at the stairs that Ginny was slowly descending.

"Hurry up dear," she said. "I need your help with the cake."

Ginny swung off the stairs with her hand on the banister carelessly. Walking into the kitchen she noticed Harry staring expressionlessly out of the window at the falling rain. She stared at him for a while and then shook her head angrily. She couldn't have him so she shouldn't burden herself with false hopes and dreams.

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The front door of the Burrow crashed open and the howling wind could be heard clearly all throughout the house. "I am 'ome," Fleur announced as she stepped through the doorway. "I 'ave got zee dresses too."

Mrs Weasley looked up in annoyance and then hurried over to shut the door. "I'm sorry Fleur, but I don't know what you mean" she said, her feet squelching in the water left by the rain on the threshold. She pursed her lips and cleaned the floor with a flick of her wand.

Fleur rolled her eyes. "Zee bridesmaid's dresses o' course," she exclaimed. "For Gabrielle and Ginny." Obviously pleased with the stir she had caused and the look on Mrs Weasley's face, Fleur swept into the living room.

"I thought that we were both going to decide!" Mrs Weasley stuttered. "I…" She was silenced as Fleur produced the dress. In the kitchen, Ginny dropped the pan that she was washing.

A long silence followed, broken only by Fred and George's sniggering which soon developed into hoots of laughter at the hideous golden dress and the horrified look on Ginny's face. She glared at them and Fleur shook out the dress so that it could be seen clearly, seemingly oblivious to the twins.

"Ummm…," Ginny said in a strangled voice. "It's… ah…"

"Eet ees beautiful," Fleur said firmly. "You and Gabrielle will look beautiful."

Ginny managed a small smile, desperately trying to mask the horror on her face. "I need to go and have a shower," she said hastily, standing up." Bye." With that, she hurried back up to her bedroom.

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I hope that chapter was okay… I promise that future ones will be longer. Heh – I couldn't resist the reference to Somerset. I lived there and I was quite sad yet proud at JK Rowling's reference to it in Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. Please review – I have seen the hits I got for the first chapter and so I knew how many people read it, although I have no idea what they thought of it. Please review so that I will know what other people think of my story. I don't see much point in continuing with a story if I don't know what people think of it, so I won't continue this story if no-one reviews. It isn't that hard and you don't even need an account on FanFiction to review, so I don't know what is stopping people. 


	3. Riverside innocence

**Author's note: **Sorry, I've had sooo many assessments and I just haven't had that much time to put this up. I know that isn't much of an excuse but I promise to get them done faster. I do have exams coming up soon, so don't expect anything for the moment. After those I'll have the summer holidays so I should be able to get lots done then!

There are some parts of this chapter that I really like, and others that I hate. I don't have a beta reader yet as Tarni and Hanusia are still procrastinating and not reading this, no matter how much I pressure them… (insert evil glare of doom here)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter or anything related to it… blah blah blah…

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**The Prayer of a Dragon – Riverside innocence**

Draco fell to his knees, gasping. His dry coughs echoed around the dark chamber, bouncing off all the hard, unforgiving stone. He felt a hand grab the back of his robes and he was roughly dragged to his feet, straining his eyes in the suffocating darkness. He felt like his entire world had closed in on him and for a moment is head reeled, his senses spiralling out of control. Draco staggered and swallowed, trying to calm himself. After everything that had happened, he _really_ did not need to be stuck in a really, _really_ small cave full of Death Eaters that would kill him if he made the slightest mistake.

A flickering green light was conjured, illuminating Snape's grim face. Blinking, Draco looked around him. He was standing in a cave far larger than he had imagined with an archaic, high, curved roof. It reminded him slightly of a muggle church that he had seen. Once his eyes had adjusted, he could vaguely make out some intricately carved eroded stone pillars, stretching high up to the far away ceiling. Draco stood in the centre of the chamber, craning his neck as he stared up in awe at the roof eerily lit up with flickering green shadows. He couldn't understand how a place such as this could go for so long without the ministry finding out about it.

The other Death Eaters did not seem as impressed as Draco was; they were instead stretching and sitting down. With a start, Draco realised that Solden had vanished.

"Where's Solden?" he asked Snape, who was staring into his fire with an incomprehensible expression on his face.

Snape shrugged. "Gone to announce our arrival, I expect." A sinking feeling materialised in Draco's stomach. He nodded as if it was obvious and walked over to a corner of the chamber where he settled down, trying to appear like he was bored.

The truth was, he was far from that. For almost a year now he had entertained the notion of swaggering into Voldemort's assembly in front of all of the other Death Eaters, successfully returning after murdering Dumbledore. That dream seemed like a far-gone wisp of hopeful reality now, never to happen. He had boasted about his important mission in front of all of his friends back at Hogwarts and had filled himself with a deluded self-importance. Now it was Snape who would be getting the glory. Snape who would be redeemed in the eyes of every Death Eater. For Draco there was only shame. He had the chance to finish Dumbledore, but he had proved himself weak and allowed the old fool to throw him off balance. It proved he was weak; not capable of being a true, ruthless, valued Death Eater. He shook his head. No matter what happened now, the past was the past. He could not change that; he could only shape his future. There could be no turning back now – he had to prove himself more than ever.

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Harry sat idly on a bench near the small pond near The Burrow, staring down at his clasped hands. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't hear Ginny slipping onto the bench beside him until he felt her arm around his shoulders.

She squeezed his shoulder gently. "I heard you're leaving tomorrow."

Harry nodded. "I have to go back to the Dursley's before I turn seventeen, to make sure that my protection with them still lasts." He sighed. "Everything seems so difficult now. When I was little, it was just to graduate Hogwarts. I then decided to become an Auror and somehow destroy Voldemort single-handedly along the way, as well as becoming Head Boy."

A choked laugh escaped Ginny. "You don't set high goals, do you?"

"I guess I was a tad delusional," Harry said, smiling.

Ginny playfully punched him on the arm. "Hah – I made you smile!" she said, triumphantly. "I haven't seen you smile since Dumbledore…" she broke off, mentally cursing her stupidity whilst Harry stared down at his hands, all of his troubles assaulting his mind once more.

A long silence fell between the two, broken only by the tree branches restlessly moving in the wind. A small duckling bravely dipped into the pond, braving the cold. Its long legs kicked everywhere, filled with adolescence awkwardness. It seemed to be caught between its fluffy babyhood and dangerous adulthood to Ginny.

After a while, Harry stood up stretching his legs. "I'd better go pack," he said. "I suppose we'll be leaving early tomorrow."

Ginny swung her legs around on the bench so she could see Harry better. "What do you mean, we?" she asked, raising one eyebrow.

Harry looked at her, surprised. "Ron and Hermione are coming with me. They wouldn't have it any other way."

"And neither will I" Ginny said, standing up. "I'm coming with you too."

Harry shook his head. "You can't come, Gin." She stared back at him, her mouth set in a determined line. Harry knew well by now that the expression on her face meant she would not be swayed. His voice softened and he put his hands on her shoulders, staring down into her clear eyes. "You're too important to me."

Ginny scowled. "I don't care" she said. "You're important to me too and you are _not_ going to leave me behind. I'm not a little girl, I'm 16 years old! Wasn't I there with you at the Ministry? You were only 15 then, I…"

"I love you." Ginny was cut off mind-sentence in astonishment and Harry continued. "Every single person that is important to me is dead or in danger. My parents, Sirius, Dumbledore… I don't want to add your name to that list. As long as you are near me or 'with' me, you are in terrible danger." Harry sighed and gently squeezed her shoulders. "I love you too much to let you go."

Ginny bit her lip and looked down at the ground. "I love you too, so much that I'm not going to let you go into danger alone."

"I won't be alone; Ron and Hermione will be with me…" Harry protested, but Ginny took no notice.

"I don't care about what V-Voldemort may do," she looked up at him, her eyes bright with tears and determination. "I'm coming and that's final." On a sudden impulse, she leaned in and kissed him. Ginny felt his surprise, then relaxation as he bent in and kissed her back. She wrapped her hands around his shoulders and kissed him again. He dug his hand into the side of her and she pulled away, gasping in laughter. Harry looked at her, his eyes amused.

"So you are ticklish, then," he said.

Ginny was half laughing and half crying, tears running down her cheeks. "You are so stupid" she said, giving him a push on the shoulder.

"Whoa!" Harry staggered backwards, slipping on a patch of mud. He grabbed her arm as he fell and in surprise, she was jerked forward with him. They fell into the river with a splash, sending the duckling far away rocking on the turbulent waves.

With a laugh, Harry got up and splashed Ginny, who shrieked and fell on him again, pushing him under the water. With some effort he picked her up and dumped her on her back in the water, managing to get her thoroughly wet. Ginny laughed and stood up, shaking her wet hair out of her eyes. Harry bent down and lifted her up by the arms. Instead of dumping her back in the water again, he bent down and kissed her. She kissed him hungrily back, not noticing the water lapping around their waists. Slowly the couple sank down, the water washing away all of their troubles.

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Solden lead the group of Death Eaters through a labyrinth of passageways dimly lit by flickering green candlelight casting ominous, flickering shadows on all the walls. Draco tried to memorise the path that they were taking but he found that after the 7th turn he had lost count. He suspected that Solden was purposely taking them the long way round, but he did not know why. They had all been hand-picked by the Dark Lord for this mission –why should there be all of these unnecessary precautions? Unless... Draco tried to push the thought from his mind as with a start he realised that they had stopped at an inconspicuous-looking blank stone wall.

It reminded him somewhat of the entrance to the Slytherin common room at Hogwarts. Snape crouched down and ran his fingers over the wall. With a grunt of satisfaction, he found what he was looking for and rolled up his sleeve. The Dark Mark that they all bore was revealed and Snape pressed it against the thing he had found on the wall. Immediately, iridescent green lines came out from that spot and spread all over the rock, revealing a larger glowing replica of the Dark Mark. It brightened, then faded as the seemingly solid rock wall disappeared into nothingness. A large chamber was revealed, even more ornately carved than the one that Draco had first seen.

It was lavishly furnished with rich tapestries, deep green upholstery and burning torches and was filled with other Death Eaters. A green runner carpet ran lay on the floor, leading from the entrance to the end of the chamber where a large throne was. Draco's mouth went dry as he recognised the figure sitting on the throne.

Voldemort, the Dark Lord.

Draco had bragged to his friends about meeting the Dark Lord and receiving an important mission from him, but he had never told them what it actually felt like to be in Voldemort's presence. He acted like it was all glory, but in reality all Draco felt was a cold fear.

The band of Death Eaters strode towards the throne and Draco instinctively raised his chin and fell into his usual, arrogant swagger. He was painfully aware of all the other people in the room watching him and beads of sweat started to roll down his cheek, hidden by his mask. Draco thought that for an instant he glimpsed his mother, but under the heavy black hoods and stark white masks it was impossible to tell.

They reached throne and as one, they lowered themselves down on one knee, their heads bent.

"Rise" a deathly cold voice hissed, coming out from the hood that covered the Dark Lord's face. Draco got unsteadily to his feet and raised his eyes. Slowly, Voldemort pulled his hood down, revealing his face. His eyes swept over each person before him. When they reached Draco they lingered there. A sharp, fierce intrusion knifed though his mind and he heard Voldemort's voice echoing in there. _'So... you did not kill Dumbledore yourself…' _Draco bit his lip and tried to stand up straighter, a feat that was becoming increasingly more difficult. _'You will be punished for this…'_ Mercifully, the voice disappeared and Draco heard Voldemort speak out loud to all of them.

"Tell me, Snape. Why did you kill Dumbledore yourself?" Snape opened his mouth to speak but Voldemort ploughed mercilessly on. "Was it that Draco was too weak? That he could not bear to kill anyone?" Voldemort smirked. "I must remind you Draco – failure to perform duties is punishable. Be glad that I am merciful and will not kill you instead."

He raised his wand and Draco shut his eyes, bracing himself for the inevitable pain. "_Crucio!"_ Draco fell to his knees, screaming aloud. The pain was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. He writhed on the ground as Voldemort stood over him, a cruel smile on his face. He lowered his wand and the pain stopped. Draco was aware of the room emptying. He was left alone in the huge and he curled up into a small ball, sobbing.

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	4. Worst Nightmare

**Author's note: **I'm sorry it has taken so long for me to finally get this chapter done – I have had the half-finished draft of it sitting on my desk for ages, although I've had exams so I haven't had much time to do anything much. Thankfully, the school year has finished so I should be able to get loads done over the summer holidays. I'll be going away for a week or so just after Christmas and I won't have access to a computer, so although I will get (hopefully) lots written then I won't be able to type it up and post it. If I don't update before Christmas, I would like to say that I hope that you all have a very merry Christmas!

**Disclaimer:** Um… I don't even know why I should put this up considering this is a FanFiction site, but everyone else does it, so… I don't own Harry Potter. Sure, I would love to own him, especially Cedric, but I don't.

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**The Prayer of a Dragon**

**Chapter 4: Worst Nightmare**

Ginny, Harry, Hermione and Ron flew silently across the darkening sky, their features camouflaged with a cleverly cast Disillusionment charm. Ginny closed her eyes for a small moment, reveling in the crisp, cold air and the wind brushing her face, sending her hair streaming out behind her.

"Gin?" Harry's whisper pierced through the silent night air, seemingly coming from nowhere.

"Hmm?" she whispered back.

"I don't know how the Dursleys are going to react, with me turning up." He gave a nervous laugh. "Can you imagine… four wizards turning up on their doorstep – it would be their worst nightmare come true!"

One minute later the group alighted on the Dursley's carefully manicured lawn, and after making sure that no-one could see them, Hermione got rid of the charm. Together the four of them walked up the front path. Ginny noticed that a sad expression crossed Harry's face as they passed the agapanthuses and he gripped her hand a little tighter, but she chose to say nothing of it.

Ron had a very Fred and George-ish grin on his face. "I remember the last time we here here – that grossly obese cousin of"

"Ron!" Hermione said sharply with a pointed look towards the Dursley's front door.

Ginny caught Harry smiling out of the corner of her eye, and she gave him a quizzical look. "What is it?" she asked, squeezing his hand."

Harry shrugged and gave a light laugh. "Nothing," he said, returning the squeeze. "I just can't wait to see their faces, that's all." He stepped forward and rang the doorbell. "Here we go."

On the other side of the door they heard the rattling of keys and chains. Cautiously, the door was drawn open only as far as the restraining chain would let it, revealing a large moustached face. Uncle Vernon's eyes widened, then the door slammed shut in their faces. Ginny could hear him hissing at his wife. "Petunina – it's _him_ and his… _friends_…" Some low words were exchanged, but try as she might, Ginny couldn't hear what they were saying. Slowly, the door opened again and the four of them heard Uncle Vernon's voice again, this time directed at them. "What do you want?"

This time it was Hermione who stepped forward. "Mr Dursley," she said, smiling. "I can't tell you what an honour it is to finally meet you! I've heard _so_ much about you from Harry, of course, like what a successful businessman you are. I'm Hermione Granger, by the way. My parents are both dentists, so I know just how hard it is to attain success at the moment, especially with the economy the way it is at the moment."

Behind here, Ron was rolling his eyes so extensively that Ginny half-suspected that they might forever disappear into the back of his head.

The door closed again and the rattling of the chain sliding out of place was heard. It opened again, revealing Uncle Vernon looking at them, with Aunt Petunia looking over his shoulder.

"They're not dentists of… _your_ kind, are they?" he asked suspiciously.

"Oh no," Hermione said brightly. "They're not magical at all – they are really very normal."

Uncle Vernon shushed her quickly, his piggy eyes frantically searching the street as if he could see the neighbours leaning over their fences in an effort to overhear. "Just come in," he said hastily, opening the door further.

Ginny grinned at Harry as they stepped over the doorstep, making sure that they wiped their feet first. Aunt Petunia, however, had a very sour look on her face, as if something with a particularly bad smell had just been smeared all over her spotless floors. When all gour of them had stepped inside, Uncle Vernon, after what looked like a moment of painful indecision, finally ushered them into the living room. Ginny, Harry, Hermione and Ron all took a seat on one of the couches, whilst the Dursleys sat on the couch opposite from them. With a wry smile, Ginny noticed that Harry's infamous cousin, Dudley, had sidled into the room very uneasily, with his hands clamped tight over his backside. He took a long look at Hermione once he had been seated, although she was inspecting her fingernails and appeared not to notice.

Uncle Vernon cleared his throat. "I suppose you'd better tell me why you're here" he growled, his piggy eyes flitting to each one of them.

Harry took the opportunity to introduce the others. "This is one of my best friends, Ron Weasley," he said, indicating to Ron, who raised his hand briefly. "You've already met him, though. And this is Hermione, another one of my best friends. She's the brightest witch of our age and has Mu… I mean, non-magical parents." Hermione smiled at the Dursleys, who didn't return the gesture, and Harry moved across to Ginny who leant closer into him. "This is Ginny Weasley, my girlfriend," he said, smiling down at her.

Uncle Vernon scratched his ear. "I'm sure that's all very well," he said. "But what are all of you doing here? I thought that we had finally seen the last of you! I mean…" he added hastily as Ron uncrossed his legs and suddenly sat up straighter, "We didn't think that you would be coming back." Uncle Vernon paused before asking one more question. "So, are you going to tell me why you're here?"

All eyes turned to Harry, who sat silently on the couch, staring down at his clasped hands. After a moment of silence he looked up and stared directly into Uncle Vernon's eyes, who coughed uncomfortably. Harry swept his gaze to Aunt Petunia, who fidgeted on the couch and quickly looked away. Harry sighed and turned to Hermione. "Can you cast a spell to make sure that no-one hears anything?" She nodded and drew out her wand. The Dursleys flinched but stayed where they were. Uncle Vernon opened his mouth and looked for a moment as if he would dearly love to say something, but thought better of it and closed it. Hermione muttered something and a growing, silvery bubble flew out of her want and expanded, enveloping all the occupants of the room, It then faded until only the people inside it could see it.

With a reassuring nod from Ginny, Harry proceeded to tell the Dursleys everything. He started from when he was a small first year and went right up to their presence in the Dursley's living room.

When Harry finished, a long silence descended upon the room. The only sound that could be heard was the steady patter of rain outside, but even that sounded strangely muted due to the spell that Hermione had cast. The three Dursleys looked like they were struggling to take in all of this information. After a while, Uncle Vernon spoke with difficulty. "So… this Bumbleydore is dead, then? The no-good headmaster of your rotten school – the one who was here last year. Well, it's good riddance to bad rubbish, I'll say, and _don't point that thing at me!_"

Harry was standing, his wand drawn and pointing directly at Uncle Vernon, his face livid with rage. "Don't force me," he said through clenced teeth. Aunt Petunia gave a muffled shriek.

Ginny leapt to her feet. "Harry, don't" she said. "They're not worth the effort."

Uncle Vernon's eyes flicked momentarily to Ginny, then back to Harry again. "She's right, Harry," he said frantically. "We're your only family, you wouldn't hurt us, would you? What have we done to you?"

Scowling, Harry lowered his wand. "I can't believe you," he said. "But Ginny's right. You're not worth the effort." He stood up and pocketed his wand. "Come one," he said. "Let's go."

Aunt Petunia stood up hastily. "Wait!" She turned to her surprised husband. "He and his friends can stay until July the 31st – his birthday, can't they?" she said nervously. "After all he's been through, surely we owe him what little protection we can give him."

Uncle Vernon glared at her, his moustache bristling. "I guess they can stay," he said grudgingly. Ginny looked at him, surprised, then she glanced at Harry who seemed to be mirroring her expression.

"Thanks…" Harry said cautiously. Aunt Petunia refused to meet his eyes.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Draco didn't know how long he had been lying on the ground, but eventually he heard footsteps coming towards him. A cold voice sounded in his ear. "I have something I want you to do."

Painfully, Draco got to his knees and bowed low. "I will do anything you require me to do, my Lord."

Unseen to Draco, Voldemort's lipless mouth stretched into a thin, cruel smile.

* * *

**Author's note:** I hope you liked this chapter! One more thing though – I know that loads of people have read this story, but I still get hardly any reviews. I really, really, really, want to know what other people think of the story, even if they hate it. I hate to do this, but if I don't get reviews then I will stop posting this story because I don't see any point continuing with it. Sorry, to do that, but I don't want to waste my time writing when no-one cares. 


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